All Along
by sssweet-disposition
Summary: Clarke is furious after learning that Lexa - a police officer - put herself into a dangerous situation. Lexa has no idea why her friend is so upset over her doing her job. or An old AU of mine for another ship that I took and changed to fit Clarke and Lexa.


You think that you can definitely cross this off as the first time you've ever been so frustrated with her through all seven years of friendship. You're sure your blood is quite literally boiling, and your hands are currently so tightly clenched into fists at your sides that the knuckles of your fingers going white. For the life of you you're attempting to wrap your head around what she can possibly be so bothered by. You've done this time and time again, taking down suspect after suspect; you're a police officer and it's your job. It's your reality. Sometimes it's a daily occurrence. She's visited you at work before, but never to make such a public spectacle by means of a loud disagreement.

"Clarke, I had to do _something!_ There were six other people in there! One is better than six!"

You're using all of your tired breath by trying to reason with her but this conversation is only making the both of you more angered and tense. Her eyebrows are knit closely together, her face has taken on a slight blush from her annoyance, and you can see the strain of the muscle in her neck when she yells back at you.

Her pale arms flail outwards as she continues to try making her case to you. "It was stupid Lex! You know very well that you should have just let him take the damn money!"

You've never seen her so upset over your job. You know she worries. You're not saying your job isn't dangerous. But you've never seen her fuming like she is now.

* * *

 **Two Hours Earlier:**

It's a humid summer day and this line couldn't be moving any slower. The air inside the store is thick and you've been irritable ever since you've woken up from your deep sleep after a drunken night at Grounders with your work unit. You're never behind on schedule but this morning you woke at half past eight and you already knew you were going to be late for parade even though you missed your alarm by only twenty minutes. If you're going to be stuck on desk duty you decided that there might as well be some cheese puffs in it for you.

You're third in line after grabbing your snack and finally, after what seems like the slowest three minutes ever, the lady who was at the counter finishes picking the coins out of her purse and paying for her items. As she begins moving towards the door, the young boy in front of you grabs her by the arm and makes a movement you are all too familiar with, pulling a handgun from where it was hiding in the back of his pants and under his sweater. Instinctively, you reach for your weapon on the holster that you soon realize isn't there and you can feel your heart pumping at a slightly faster pace.

"Alright, everybody get on the ground!" he yells. "I want everything in the register and I want everybody's phones passed to me on the floor where I can see them, now!"

The woman in his hold is panicking, trying to squeeze her way out of his grasp but his hold on her is too strong. Tears begin running down her face and you know that you need to do something quick. Looking around you notice that everyone is scrambling to the floor as fast as they can, absentmindedly throwing their phones towards his feet while the man behind the counter opens the tray with his trembling hands. Unlike everyone else, you stay exactly as you are, cheese puffs clutched tightly in your hand with your back as straight as it can be. He's a boy no older than 18, so where do you start?

"Stop emptying the register" you tell the man. You turn your attention to the boy next and look him in the eyes. As calmly as your racing heart will allow, you try to make conversation with the kid. "My name is Officer Woods, I'm with 15th Division, what's your name?"

His face becomes worried as if only now he's realizing how big of a mistake this is, but then he composes himself and begins to speak loudly once again. "No, no names!"

Suddenly the gun is pointed much too close to your face and you let the bag drop from your hand as your bring your arms up in a defensive position. "Come on kid, what do you need this money for? There's probably only a few twenties and some small change in that register right now, it's not even nine yet" you try to explain.

Unsuspectingly, the store clerk chimes in. "She's right, I've only just opened the store. There've only been three customers so far".

You can see the vein popping from his forehead as he spits his next words. "It doesn't matter why I need it! Get on the floor before I kill her!" He places the gun back on the woman's temple, clearly more angered than he had been a few minutes ago.

He's becoming more aggravated and impatient; you know that this isn't going to turn out so well if he doesn't get what he wants, so you need to improvise, rethink your strategy and approach this at a new angle. "Okay, how about this…How about you let that nice lady go out the door and same with all these other people? You can hold me here, alright? We'll call the station so you can tell them how much you need, and they can work something out for you".

* * *

You pinch the bridge of your nose and try to compose yourself but your words still come spitting out with a hint of annoyance. "I couldn't have just let him be a danger Clarke, he could have killed everyone! And then who knows how many people on the street he would have hurt!" Usually when the two of you "argue" it lasts a whole two minutes before one of you breaks the other's composure with a foolish joke about the situation, but this time she barged through the doors of the station, demanding the other officers tell her where you are and now you've been at each other's throats for over ten minutes.

" _Why are you being so hard-headed?_ Can you just for once think of the fact that putting yourself into more danger to save people isn't always the greater solution!?" Her blue eyes are burning into yours and she's still standing her ground. Always so stubborn. It bothers you that your friend can't understand the simplicity of the word 'job'.

"Clarke I don't understand why you're being so uptight about this!"

Her mouth opens in an attempt to continue arguing but it's not her voice that you hear.

" _Lex!_ She loves you, you idiot".

You're suddenly pulled out of the bubble you two had created, realizing that you're still both standing at a face off by your desk while everyone is silently trying to pretend they haven't been watching this whole scuffle ever since it started. You find the source of the voice and Anya rolls her eyes, grabbing a file from Lincoln's desk and walking down the hall without saying anything more. Turning back to Clarke, you catch her in the midst of running her hand through her blonde waves; a nervous habit that you picked up on still during the early stages of your friendship. She's trying to look anywhere but at your face and you're trying to will words to come out of your mouth.

"Clarke…" you begin, but before you can muster up anything of importance you're already watching her back as she walks out the doors.

* * *

You can't chase after your friend because you're still on clock but you can however go find Anya to attempt clearing your disheveled brain.

When you do find her, she's in the breakroom sipping something from her hot pink coffee mug. If you weren't so frazzled you'd make fun of her for it like you normally do. You pull out the chair that's across from her on the other side of the table before taking a seat and crossing your hands together in front of you. She still hasn't looked at you even though she knows you're there, instead texting someone – probably Raven – on her phone.

"Why the hell would you say she's in love with me? You made her run for the fucking hills, Anya".

"I said it because it's true and you're a huge fucking idiot".

You still have no idea what your friend is possibly talking about. This conversation is already only confusing you even more. "Why would you think Clarke is in love with me?"

That makes her look towards you, snickering as she does so. "Hell if I know" she jokes, "but she's been in love with you since forever – everyone knows that – and you're too busy hating yourself to even notice that you love her too – which everyone except you also notices".

* * *

 **Five hours later:**

There's only ten minutes left of your shift but it's felt like it would never end. You've thought about what Anya said over and over again. For the life of you there's nothing that makes you comprehend why Clarke would be in love with you. You know that she cares about you; friends do that, but loving you? That couldn't be. Why would she? You're impetuous, self-destructive, and a brat. You push away those who want to be close. The thought makes you take a mental step back.

Clarke has always been there. You've never pushed her away. You've let her see parts of yourself that no one has ever gotten far enough to see. She's seen you at your worst and has been there through your toughest, most vulnerable times. She never once judged you or made you feel like you had to be someone who you aren't. Clarke has undeniably been a welcomed company in your life ever since you got assigned as her roommate during your second year at university.

She has never left you.

It suddenly dawns on you and you're stuck with an ache in your chest; one that feels like everything makes sense. You're in love with Clarke. You've been in love with her for a _very_ long time now. And she loves you. She genuinely loves you and now you have to tell her that you're sorry and that you were _so fucking stupid_.

As soon as the ten minutes are up, you clock out and grab your bag from your locker, not even bothering with changing out of uniform. You've sent Clarke multiple texts inquiring whether or not she's alright, but you've received no response, only a text from Raven.

 _Raven: She's not mad at you, she's just embarrassed you had to hear it from someone else first. Come over to see her._

You like being meticulous about things; having a plan before you walk into certain situations, but right now there's nothing running through your head except the fact that you really need to tell your friend how you feel. You really need to apologize and just fucking tell her. Maybe even thank her for putting up with your dumb self for so long.

* * *

You don't remember the drive to her house, only that it seemed to take forever. Before jumping out of your car you steady your breath, which you didn't realize had been so irregular, and you muster up the courage you need. You've managed to move your feet to her front door and all too quickly your hand eagerly reaches out to press the doorbell. Standing there nervously, you begin to wonder if you should have bought her something first; flowers or chocolate, maybe a bottle of that red wine she likes so much.

Panic sets in because now you think you're doing this all wrong. Clarke deserves better than this. Clarke deserves a fancy dinner and a dozen roses, or a picnic and a walk on the fucking beach, not an impromptu declaration of your clearly obvious feelings just hours after an argument.

The door swings open as you're mentally berating yourself and you're peeled away from your train of thought. The person on the other side is clearly not the woman you're looking for, instead it's one of the other two girls that live there and your voice shakes as your friend assesses you almost judgingly. "Uh, hey Octavia, is – is Clarke home?" You remember to breathe and try to hold your bearings. Out of all the friends in your group it's the little firecracker of a brunette that sometimes is frightening enough to intimidate you.

She gives a polite smile before turning her attention back into the home. "Clarke, Lexa is here!" she calls out in a sing-song voice that annoyingly reminds you of your sister, Luna. She looks at you once again and lowers her voice so only you can hear. "Get your head out of your ass, Lex".

Octavia disappears for a few seconds into the hallway and you can hear more shuffling coming from inside the house when suddenly Raven comes barreling out of the home. "Okay Clarke, O and I are heading out now! Call me later!" she yells before giving you a quick "Hello" and walking to her black Jeep parked on the driveway, Octavia not far behind her.

"Hey". You're pulled away from watching your two friends leave as a familiar voice sounds in your ears. Never have you been so captivated by someone's voice but Clarke's was different; always smooth and gentle. It calms you in the worst of situations and her laugh makes your heart feel light. You wonder how you've let yourself go so long without realizing this crucial piece of information. Her eyes are different than they had been hours earlier. They're softer, much more how you always have known them to be, but she reaches up to touch her hair and you realize she's probably been here for hours mulling over what Anya had so unceremoniously pointed out to you.

You look at the way her beautiful blond hair cascades down her shoulders and wonder what it'd be like to extend your hand and push it neatly behind her ear. Her pink lips are such an inviting sight and you find yourself wondering what it'd be like if they were pressed against your own. You need to say something before she begins to fidget even more than you notice she already is so you take a deep breath before starting.

"I'm terribly self-conscious. All my life I've been told that I'm not good enough. Not a good enough girlfriend for people to stick around, not stable enough to be the other half of many friendships, not a person who can achieve their greatest potential in terms of my job. All my life I've constantly had people judge me because of my dad's positionat the precinct and because they think I've had things handed to me through every step of the way. No one has ever seen how hard I work at my job to accomplish what I have. No one sees how much I struggle with being myself because they don't try to understand me. I don't remember the last time I truly felt secure about myself".

You look up from the ground and see that her face has taken on a look of sadness. "I never thought anything about how you may feel about me because I've been so caught up in thinking that I don't deserve good things. I've been so self-conscious that I've completely ignored what was right in front of my face the whole time. I love you, Clarke. I knew the minute I walked into our room at school for the first time and saw the purple paint smeared across your cheek. I'm sorry it took so long for me to catch up. I just got stuck in being who everyone else made me believe I was". You don't realize until you're finished talking that your cheeks are wet with tears.

Crossing the threshold, Clarke opens her arms to you and you embrace her tightly, not wanting to let this moment pass. Your face is buried in the space between her shoulder and neck, feeling the warmth of her skin. She smells like vanilla and coffee and you don't want to let her go. She holds you and you feel safe. You feel much lighter now that everything is out in the open and you've let yourself feel the care she's always had for you. "I love you too, Lexa Woods" she whispers, squeezing you tighter to convey that she truly means it.

It feels wonderful hearing the words slip from her mouth. You've been waiting for this your entire life. Waiting for the moment someone will barge into your world and completely strip it bare of all the bad. You've been waiting for something you hadn't realized you already had. She's been doing it all along and you're incredibly, overwhelmingly happy you have someone like her in your life. Clarke loves you and you love her, and right now all you want to do is bask in how perfect her arms feel around you.

You've never really felt like you belong anywhere but now you know the truth of it all. Home isn't a room with four walls. Home is right here. It's the woman you love so greatly. The woman who you hope to spend the rest of your life with, showing her how thankful you are for investing so much love into you like no one else ever has.


End file.
